Scrappy-crappy nonsense

Rating: 1/10 (18 November 2002)

The BBC made a nifty adaptation of The Day Of The Triffids when I was a lad back in 1981 and it scared the bejesus out of me. I was hoping that this similarly-themed tosh would give me a nostalgic case of the ab-dabs. All it gave me was the 'dabs' as I wiped away the tears after wasting eight quid and the best part of two precious hours on this badly executed, cruddy dialogue-ridden tripe.
A man-made virus infects almost everyone, turning Britain into a nation of bloodthirsty lunatics (nothing new there, then). So when the 'infecteds' are around, which isn't nearly enough, this is almost fun. There's an interminably boring middle section involving a drive from London to Manchester which is about as exciting as the real thing, then we're holed up with a ragtag band of soldiers who turn out to be as mad and bad as the infecteds. The clichés and plot contrivances rain thick and fast (hey, wonder what'll happen to that infected grunt they've got tied up out back?) before the bloody and bloody silly denouement. And somehow the hero, not-so-fresh out of hospital, turns into some sort of Bruce Willis/Jet Li character at the end. Don't get me wrong, I can suspend disbelief with the best of 'em, but come on... I thought this guy wrote The Beach and the director masterminded Trainspotting? Where'd their IQs go?
Credit where credit's due, though - it starts well on the deserted streets of London. But then Vanilla Sky did the same thing with Tom Cruise in Times Square, and look at the mess that found itself in. A let-down of the lowest order.